Mobile Suit Gundam: A series of short stories
by Nabeshin III
Summary: Short stories of civilians and soldiers during the One-Year War. Inspiration for these stories are credited to Hemmingway's First Forty-nine Short Stories.
1. Chapter 1: Loum

I don't like this ship. The quarters are cramped, the food tastes like ass and the people are rude. When I first boarded the _Kanon _I knew that this ship would be the death of me. The Salamis-class cruisers were built not for comfort but for military efficiency. The ship's design is essentially a floating coffin. One small explosion anywhere on the ship could mean instant death. Being sucked out into space isn't how I envisaged my end. I always imagined that I would die in bed, surrounded by family. Having the blood boiled out of my eyes makes, well, my blood boil. I guess one can't have everything he wants.

I can see explosions in the distance behind the remained of Side 5. Probably the rest of the seventh expeditionary fleet getting wiped out by that thing. How could the Intelligence Agency not have known that Zeon bastards had those giants? The _Kanon _and the rest of the seventh fleet had been outfitted for anti-ship not anti-air. I even complained to the logistics division at Luna II that we needed to load more anti-air ammunition but they just laughed at me and just loaded more ship-to-ship missiles and mega-particle cannon cartridges. Guess being an executive officer for a ship that isn't a squadron lead means that your opinions don't mean squat. I suppose that none of that really matters now. The bridge is mostly destroyed and everything is dark. Nothing has moved since one of those green robots fired it's bazooka into the Kanon's midriff. I think the pressure explosion that ripped open the bridge door was caused by a ruptured mega-particle cartridge.

Huh, there goes another one of Zeon's monsters. It's fast for its size. Oh, and there goes a few _Toriares _fighters after it. Damn this crack in my helmet. I wish I could take it off to see what is going on outside. But the vacuum will kill me. I have three more minutes of oxygen left according to the meter. It would have lasted longer but the crack in my helmet is causing the my air to leak out. That's right, it's my air. The air is my final possession and I would kill anyone who would take it from me.

I grew up in the industrial district of Side 1. I never had much and if I wanted anything, I would have taken it from them. Being a delinquent and dropping out of high didn't help me. Eventually I was caught and jailed for petty theft and sentenced for three years in jail. Funnily enough, in the first month, a Federation recruiter found me and offered me the naval academy. You see, I'm not dumb. Rather, my test scores were in the top tenth percentile. I was like the Captain Kirk of the colonies. The academy was the best thing that happened to me. Naval tactics intrigued me and I engrossed myself in space combat. Being a petty thug out on the street slipped into my past and I climbed up the rank ladder. However, my lone-wolf ways and aggressive manners stayed with me. I was assigned from ship to ship, but I never bonded with any of the crew. They said it was because they felt that I was going to be their superior sometime in the future but I knew that they were scared of me. I boarded the _Kanon _a week ago as its new XO, replacing the old XO after he suffered a sudden case of alcohol related death. I wanted this ship to be different to my previous postings; I wanted to get to know the people on this ship of death but none of that really matters now. They're most probably dead.

I can feel the air inside my helmet getting thinner and my breathing is getting shallower. I knew that this ship was probably going to be the death of me and I was right. I was wrong during the early stages of my life and after I joined the academy I realised that I was getting things right more and more. I began hating being right again and again. You could say that I began hating myself in the process. I'm going to die while hating myself.

I can see one of the remaining monitors showing the _Kanon_'s current trajectory would sling it straight into the moon. But in another minute or so I'll be unconscious and after that I'll be dead. I'm going to be haunting this ship with the rest of crewmates. Guess I'll be getting to know the crew after all…


	2. Chapter 2: France

"Mom,"

"It has been three months since my last letter to you. I really miss you, Jennet and Anne. I can't tell you where I am exactly but it is very cold out here. Those leg-warmers that you sent me have given me more comfort than my rifle."

"I hope that Jennet and Anne isn't causing you too much trouble. I know that you love children but I know that Anne can be a handful. She has a bit of a temper but if you give her something sweet she will mellow out. Please tell Jennet that I miss her too."

"I can't give you any details, mom, but I have a feeling that I won't be coming home any time soon. What I can tell you is that we're heading west. The Zeke forces are far more powerful that we expected. I saw journalists and TV crews by the roadside filming our retreat so the news must be reporting what is going on at home."

"I'm OK, but most of my friends from boot camp are either dead or injured. I have knocked on death's door a few times since I came out to Europe but we're being slaughtered by the giant robots that the Zekes has. Every time that we come across a squad of those robots, we run. The tank shells that we fire at them just bounce off their armor. Unless a shell hits their eye we don't stand a chance against them. Our superiors chew us out for running but they are the ones who are leading the charge out of the area."

"To be honest with you, I'm still scared being out here. But I'm going to be brave for my little girl so she can have a future. I've seen what those Zeon soldiers do to civilians who do not bow down to them and let's just say that I'm not going to let them set foot on North America. I don't want Anne to grow up under those monsters."

"The good news is that I've moved to the logistics corp and I'm ferrying ammunition back and forth between base and our tank column. This means that I'm not always on the frontline, which I know you and Jennet hate. It's still hard work but at I'm not getting shot at all day."

"When we pushed those Zekes back into space, I want you, dad, Jennet and Anne to move to Europe. The countries here are beautiful. It's different to America but the cities and countryside has a magical feel to them. When the war ends, I want to help rebuild this continent and I want you guys to join me over here."

"I know the Fed postal service will read through this letter and blank a lot of it out but I want you guys to know that I'm still OK and I'm going to stay that way."

"Your loving son,"

"Henry"

A Zeon soldier peered into the bullet ridden truck to inspect the damage and to make sure that the Federation soldiers that were driving it were dead. His squad had ambushed the vehicle as it weaved along a small country road just outside of Marseille. Their orders were to stop a supply truck from delivering components stripped from a downed Zaku from reaching the Federation base in Paris. Their mission was a success.

The solider used the muzzle of his rifle and slowly moved the bloody arm of the dead passenger aside and noticed the blood-stained envelope. After reading it through, the soldier folded the letter neatly and placed it into his pocket. He pulled the pin from an incendiary grenade and threw it onto the dashboard. Seconds later the truck was ablaze.


	3. Chapter 3: 500km outside of Side 5

**500km outside of Side 5**

Staring down a barrel of a 180mm cannon and staring out into the debris filled space. I could feel my urine slowly soak my "space diaper" but there was something else too. Something that I couldn't quite put my finger on but my mind was beginning to wander. It's funny how a series of coincidences can bring me to this point.

My life isn't all that interesting. My parents lived on Earth and had enough money to put me through private school. They had high hopes for me but I didn't. None of the classes really interested me. Not because they were boring but because I always thought there were better things to do. I would usually sit in class and stare out the nearest window or the cutest girl in class. I was discrete but my leering didn't go entirely unnoticed. But because I was considered to be a "cute guy" by the girls, nothing really came of it. I wasn't the kind to sleep around but I did have a relationship with one girl. Here was coincidence number one: if I had never gone out with her, I would have cared about my exam grades and actually tried harder.

When I graduated, my grades weren't bad but they did hinder my entrance to a university of my choosing. My parents were devastated and tried to get me into a university through the backdoor. I, on the other hand, didn't really care. Coincidence number two: I was approached by an EFF recruiter on a trip to buy some clothes. I had never thought about a career in the military but I signed up because he seemed like a nice guy. Mum and data weren't best pleased but they respected my choice. I packed my bags and reported to the academy. They were confiscated upon arrival as non-military grade apparel.

I was a quick learner but nothing that anyone couldn't have done if they tried a bit. My instructor thought different. He put me through the basic training and began tutoring me on more complex manoeuvres, night-flights and put me forward for zero-G training months before anyone in my class. Even though I may not have known it then but considering the speed that I progress was actually quite amazing for an 18 year-old man. My classmates were, surprisingly, supportive. They were a bit jealous but none of that spill over into hate. There was the odd joshing and hazing but I didn't get anything that everyone got anyway. Before my assignment to the Side 1 Spacy Academy, I managed to shoot a fellow cadet in the arm during target practice. The gun had misfired. The bullet ricocheted off the walls and buried itself into the cadet's lower arm. The rules on shooting a fellow cadet were quite clear, be it accidental or intentional. I was expelled. Life wasn't so good at this point.

Then Zeon dropped the colony on Australia. Seeing the destruction on the television I wasn't surprised when the phone rang and the academy wanted me to come back. I was home for only two weeks. Mum and dad begged me not to go back but left anyway. I didn't want them to worry but I wanted to go back to flying. They made me promise one thing as I left: live and come back to them. I sighed but I promised.

I was sent up to Side 1 Spacy Academy where I was introduced to the Ball. I was still in training when the Battle of Loum destroyed most of the EFF fleet. Boy was I glad that I wasn't there. Coincidence number three: if I had not been expelled, I would have joined the battle at Loum in a Flying Manta. After the higher-ups saw the usefulness of mobile suits, they put all of my class at the Spacy Academy into Mr Balls. These things were clumsy and cumbersome to pilot but we were sent out in them. I don't think my life expectancy was going to be too high.

So, here I am, staring down the barrel of my Ball's cannon. Funnily enough, I'm also staring at a huge hole in where the cockpit of a Zaku should be. My shell had hit that thing at almost point-blank range. The enemy Musai-class cruiser was retreating and the Salamis cruiser that acted as my carrier was firing bursts of mega-particle beams at it. This was the final coincidence: the Zaku had flown directly at my Ball with it's heat axe over it's shoulders. I guess the pilot thought I was out of ammo. He guessed wrong.

"Hey kid," The squadron captain said through the crackling communications channel, "Good job. I'll be recommending you for a medal once we get back. Don't get cocky though. Getting cocky out here means you'll come back in a body bag."

Huh, I survived to fight another day.

That was five seconds ago.

The Zaku's engine went into overload and the exploded into millions of pieces. Guess what? Several of those pieces are now lodged in my abdomen. My mind is hazy but I can feel something dragging my Ball, probably my squad captain, back to the ship. Mum and dad won't be very happy if I die. I suppose I should really survive for them. Need to keep that promise. Maybe I'll get another coincidence. God there's so much blood in me it's unbelievable.


	4. Chapter 4: Antarctica

**Antarctica**

"My god it's cold out there." The Zeon soldier said as he ran in from the blizzard. His face was red from the sprint he made between the buildings but it wore a distinct smile. I immediately despised him. He took a spare mug from the adjacent kitchen and pored himself a cup of coffee. The television was on the news channel and I tried to ignore him.

"So," He took a seat next to me, "What's your name?"

"Corporal Derek Watts."

"Sergeant Rothaniel Kissinger." He said, extending a hand. I hesitated but shook it nonetheless.

The news channel was fuzzy but the soothing voice of the female news broadcaster was clear. She had been talking non-stop about the recent battles in space and the rescue effort in Australia. Damn him and his kind. What the hell did we do to deserve that kind of attack? His cheery face makes me want to pummel it until all that was left was a bloody pulp. Although my current displeasure came from him, I utterly hated the situation I'm in. Sorry, 'we' are in.

The sky was still darkened by the ash cloud from Australia was still hanging in the air but the damage was limited to the continent. I didn't have family there but I knew a lot of people who had. At the barracks, we shared in the pain but also our hatred for those Zekes. We had vowed between us to slaughter anyone that we meet yet here I am, sitting in a room drinking coffee with one.

"Any word from the delegations?" I asked while keeping my temper in check.

Rothaniel took a sip from his coffee before answering, "No." He stared up at the TV.

Rothaniel was not what I was expecting from as a Zeke solider. He was a twenty something blond with a kind face. Given his constant smile and striking eyes, he seemed like someone who would be a huge hit with the ladies. I, on the other hand, am a large-built man with an almost terrifying face. Of course I wasn't always like this, but three years of bootcamp and two more training people in bootcamp does that to your face.

"I heard that both sides are negotiating a peace settlement." He said.

"About time." I lied, still retraining the urge to kick him into oblivion. My friend inside told me earlier that the Federation were looking to surrender.

"I envy you guys."

I didn't expect that statement from him.

"You live on this beautiful planet. You have fresh air. The seasons come and go like the myriad of animals. The moon looks like the moon rather than just one big crater. I wasn't expecting Antarctica to be so cold but the bitterness of it made me realise how artificial the environment on the colonies were. I kinda understand why you people wanted us off the planet. I understand why you want to keep this paradise to yourselves."

"Damn right." I muttered under my breath but he heard me nonetheless.

"But your kind can't recognise what it has and treasure it."

_Just keep talking._

"You may think of us as trash but we see those that live on Earth as a burden to our birthplace. Until you have lived in the harsh environments of outer space you will never fathom what the Earth is. That that's why the people on Earth will always be bound by gravity and why you will never be as evolved as the people out in space-"

I jumped him. I landed a punch squarely to his jaw and he tipped backwards with his chair. For someone who came from space and not accustom to Earth's gravity he recovered extremely quickly and put up a boxing stance. I lunged at him but he dodged aside and let me slip harmlessly by. As I turned back, his right hand connected with my right eye and a follow-up kick to the stomach left me on the floor gasping for air. Rothaniel wiped off a trail of blood from the corner of his mouth. I could feel the condescension and smugness without even looking at him. He picked up a nearby chair and stood over me.

"You feddies are all the same. You think you are so superior to us spacenoids but when it really comes down to it we are more adapted at surviving than you and we will wipe you out to ensure the people in space can live in peace." I looked up at him and into his eyes. I saw the raw hatred that resided in me was inside him too. His expression was one of pure rage as he lifted the chair above his head.

The television in the corner changed to the EFF Emergency Broadcast signal and the familiar face of General Revil appeared on it. It would not be the bureaucrats in Jaburo or those here negotiating for our defeat that would win the war. It would be this bearded man on the television. He would lead us to victory over the Zekes. He would push us, hurt us and let us die but he would love us like family. Maybe it was because he had the face of a battle-hardened veteran but with the eyes of a kind grandfather but me and those men that I helped train would gladly give our lives for him.

"Fellow Earth Federation citizens! I appeal to you all. Zeon is exhausted!" Were the last words that I heard before the chair slammed into my head. I went into a world of darkness with a smile on my face.


	5. Chapter 5: New York

**New York**

I awoke with his head on resting on my stomach. He was a handsome man: blond hair, chiseled jaw, muscular body etc. I wandered if the people in the colonies were all like him and if so, I'm very tempted to go up there once things have calmed down between Zeon and the Federation.

We had met at a roadside café in New York a week ago. We hit it off over a cappuccino and a light dinner next to the Hudson. He told me was a lieutenant with the 84th Mobile Suit Division that dropped into New Jersey two weeks ago. It was his first time on Earth and was adamant to see the sights. That evening we went walking through Manhattan, probably covering about twenty blocks worth of road and we were both exhausted by the time I got back to my studio flat near Central Park. I wanted him and he wanted me but we fell asleep in each other's arms instead. The next day I awoke to find he had gone. Eventually I noticed the note he had left on the dining table. He had to report back to base for a mission but said that once he returns he will find me again.

I saw his handsome face again a week later, sitting at the same café that we had met and drinking a cappuccino. There was a fresh cup sitting on the table as if he knew I would show up. I later found out that he had to re-order free coffee about five times because he was there for about three hours before I showed up. Very corny, I know, but it was cute nonetheless.

There was something about him that attracted me to him. When we chatted about ourselves or about the world around us we would find that no matter how different our views were, there was always a link between the way we thought. Like old friends, we found ourselves talking as if we were reminiscing about our past. Sometimes I would look into his azure eyes and could almost see exactly what he was thinking and understood him without even saying anything.

That evening we wrapping ourselves in each other's arms and made love. It was the first time that I've slept with anyone from the colonies. He knew where to touch me, where I was sensitive and what I wanted to do. He was not forceful but our bodies and minds found harmony together and flowed wherever we wanted to go. I passed out sometime during the night from both exhaustion and ecstasy.

I woke up today expecting him to have gone but found him resting his head on my stomach. He was still asleep and was snoring gently. I ran my fingers through his silk-like hair and held him close to me. I wanted to burn this moment into my memories. After ten minutes of zen-like stillness, he stirred from his sleep.

"Good morning." He whispered.

"Good morning." I replied.

"It feels nice to be resting on something so soft."

"Hmmm," I moaned slightly as he shifted his head on my abdomen, "Don't you have to head back to your base?"

"No. I have a 72 hour pass after completing the last mission. Earth's gravity is quite punishing on a pilot's body and that last mission took a lot out of all of us."

"Oh."

"Oh what?"

"I mean I didn't know it was so tough to pilot a…what do you call them? Modern suits?"

"Mobile suits," he said opening his eyes for the first time and turned his head to face me, "It's like flying a plane except a hundred times more difficult. Piloting one of those suits requires a lot of concentration and physical strength. We are given a specialised exercise and relaxation routine. We also eat a lot of food too."

"So I'm guessing you're hungry right now."

He smiled back at me, "Yeah, a bit."

I lifted his head from by body and skipped over to the kitchen area naked. Opening the fridge I grabbed three fresh eggs and some milk to make some scrambled eggs. I decided to use real eggs today because I'm in a good mood. Placing the ingredients down on the counter-top, I noticed that he was staring at me. I instinctively knew that he was mesmerised by my body so I decided to do a quick twirl to give him a show. After I stopped to face him again, he grinned and gave me a round of applause. I bowed with a smile and went to the cupboard to take out the frying pan with a smile.

As I reached in, I saw my Glock pistol taped to the inside of the cupboard. My eyes lingered on the gun and my mind suddenly became clear. I had known that he liked blondes so I had my brown hair dyed blonde. I had known that he was a huge fan of cappuccinos so I knew that he would visit my local café to try it's world famous cappuccino. I had known that he liked long walks when going out with a girl so I dragged him around Manhattan all afternoon and evening. I even knew what he liked for breakfast. I knew my mission was to extract his unit's movements and I would continue this act until my objectives were accomplished.

To the outside world, I looked like a woman that is sleeping with the enemy. I really don't care. People can hate me all they want but as an agent of the Earth Federation Intelligence Agency I would use any means necessary to complete my mission. This would probably come back to haunt me eventually but, right now, the lives of Federation soldiers on the line were more important.

"So," I said, placing the pan on the electric stove, "Where are you going to go next with your giant alter-ego?"


	6. Chapter 6: Central Bucharest

**06 Central Bucharest**

"Get behind cover!"

The petty officer screamed as an unguided missile flew overhead and exploded in a nearby tower block. I looked up and saw the tumbling debris before sprinting into our foxholes in the park.

"Jesus Christ!" My staff sergeant shouted over the sound of falling masonry and dove into my hole. The sound of gunfire filled the air again and we saw a few RPGs fly overhead towards the Zeon frontline. He had lost his helmet as he ran across the open field but found one in the foxhole. The darkness of night hid the hole quite well but I had memorised all the holes in a 100 radius.

"Hey Major, you OK?" He asked me.

I nodded, still a bit shook up to speak.

"Here, Major. Something for the nerves." He handed me a flask. I sniffed it and it smelt distinctively of bourbon. Taking a small sip, I felt the hot liquid warm me up. It was rancid but it warmed me up nonetheless. The gunfire from the other battalions stopped and the night became quiet yet again.

Zeon had been pounding Bucharest with heavy artillery and missiles trying to weed us out of our fortified positions but we were dug in all around the city and very few shells actually hit our positions.

It was early March but there was still a chill in the night air that managed to give us the shivers. Some men have come down with bronchitis and pneumonia but we ran out of antibiotics about a week ago so we could only leave them coughing in the hopes that their immune systems would take care of them.

Zeon's target, so we were told, was control of Romanian and Russian resources in the Odessa sector. My 103rd Infantry battalion was told to dig in at Bucharest and hold them off until reinforcements. This was two weeks ago and we have yet to see anyone come to help us.

We were short on food, ammunition and medicine…guess that's pretty much everything. But the men were in high spirits as we expected Zeon to be in the same position and they wanted the Zekes to come at us so we won't be bored.

On a tactical note, Bucharest wasn't the main point of entry into Odessa and Ukraine but given the size of the Federation contingent stationed here, Zeon probably had to wipe us out in order to allow them unfettered access to that territory. Military intelligence indicated that Zeon had five mobile infantry divisions and two mobile suit teams on the outskirts of the city but we have yet to see anyone come into the city limits. Guess they want to soften us up a bit before sending in the shock troops. We were holding the Monumentul Ostasului Necunoscut and the main thoroughfare to the centre of town and HQ, which meant our presence in the city was critical to the overall defence of Burcharest.

I looked at the puddle that I was currently sat in. I would have complained to the staff sergeant that my underwear was wet but then I remembered that it was already soaked through from the sweat that had accumulated over the past few days. The hole reminded me of a grave and I felt a sudden wave of nausea as I imagined my body laying mangled in the same ditch. I watched the water ripple from the small movements made by the sergeant and myself. They were random at first but then began to vibrate at a more constant pace.

I glanced over sergeant and saw his wide eyed expression. I peered over the side of the foxhole with my binoculars and I saw the giants. Their green armour and magenta eyes sent a chill down my spine. All the training in the world would not have prepared me for this.

"Sergeant," I said, putting a hand on his shoulder, "I want you to take Alpha and Bravo company and circle around the Dedeman Sports Ground. Get behind the Zeke mobile suits. Get them to take as many RPG rounds with them as possible. I want them to hit the suits from behind. Get Trolinski's sniper team to provide overwatch for Alpha and Bravo as they move. The rest of us will provide a distraction. Tell the men to hold fire until the mobile suits pass the Calea and wait for my signal."

The sergeant nodded and climbed out. I was alone.

I reached behind into a pouch in my vest and brought out a trigger mechanism. I knew from intelligence reports that RPG and rockets did very little against mobile suits but if we retreated here, then central Bucharest would be in the hands of the Zekes. We had planted explosives along Calea Vacaresti in anticipation of this advance but they would probably not even dent those things. I guess this was it, the last charge of the 103rd.

Looking back on my experiences with the men, I think I'm OK with dying here. These men are good men and they're more than happy to die doing their duty. I'll bet that their trigger fingers were already itching.

I sat in the mud for another ten minutes. Each footstep made by the mobile suits brought them closer to Calea Vacaresti. The radio cracked in my ear and I heard the words: "We're ready".

I looked at the trigger in my hand and then at the starry sky above.

"Alright. Let's get this over with."


	7. Chapter 6a: Central Bucharest cont

**06a Central Bucharest (ten minutes later)**

This isn't good. All I had was this launcher.

Of the fifty men in the battalion, only twelve remained. Most had been taken out in the initial barrage by the Zaku's machine cannons and the rest were hit by an anti-personnel mine mounted on one of the Zaku's legs.

I looked over at one of my surviving staff sergeants. He was taking in deep breaths, trying to recover from the 200 meter sprint with a TOW-missile launcher over his shoulder – the last TOW missile that we had. Two Zakus were advancing on our positions and all we had to defend ourselves were assault rifles and one TOW launcher. Both were almost useless against them. I understood now why the Far Eastern Divisions called our weapons bamboo spears.

We were holed up in one of the few buildings left standing in central Bucharest and, for some reason, the Zekes didn't know we were here. I peered over one of the tattered desks and saw the pink glow of the Zaku's mooneye in the distance.

The initial explosives that we set up down Calea Vacaresti managed to slow down the ground support units that accompanied the Zakus: a few APCs and heavy infantry units. However, those explosions did not stop the Zakus. When I saw them leap from the flames, their eyes and huge size reminded me of the demons that I was taught to fear as a child. It wasn't the first time in my life that I was scared, but the sight of those monsters terrified me. Maybe that fear was what kept me alive and forced me to move before they opened fire.

I sat back down again and saw my battered men looking at me. They trusted me with their lives, even now. They were looking for me to give them an answer, a way out of this nightmare. My mind drew a blank. All those months of training and none of that really taught you what to do once you are faced with an unwinnable situation. All those scenarios they taught me in West Point didn't matter for shit. They always had a way out, a solution or a trick to them. Those lessons taught you how to survive but none of them taught you how to fight Goliath. It then suddenly dawned on me: We were already dead.

Funny how a cliché can so aptly sum up a situation. No matter what we do now, we were dead men. My mind ran over several tactics that could lead to survival but they all ended in the Zakus and Zekes hunting us down within the hour. We may be captured and made into POWs but chances are they would shoot on sight. We could try to fight back. Our TOW missile can blind one Zaku but then the other would immediately fire in our directing, killing us all.

I racked my mind, trying to find a solution. I knew I was panicking as my mind raced. Then the thought hit me: Not all of us are dead.

"Sergeant," I put my hand on his TOW-launcher, "Give me the TOW."

"Major?"

"I'm going to create distraction for you guys. I will give you a five minute head-start. Once I start shooting, they will come find me and ignore you guys. Go into the sewers. The last intelligence report stated that the civilian population are rallying down there to escape. They will not be happy to see soldiers retreating but they will take you in."

"But sir-"

"I can't be caught, private. If they catch me, I'm pretty sure that they will torture the locations of our Odessa defence systems out of me. I'd rather not let that happen and I'm often allergic to torture too." That joke got some weak smiles that were soon replaced with looks of concern.

"I don't want to make this an order but I will if you don't leave, right now."

The twelve men stood up around me and saluted smartly. One of the younger privates had tears in his eyes. I stood up too and returned the salute. I knew that some wanted to stay but most were overjoyed to have been given this chance to live.

That was five minutes ago. And now I'm back to "this isn't good".

I perched the TOW-launcher on the edge of the up-turned desk and looked down the viewfinder and waited for the Zaku to walk into view.

_Here it comes._ I thought to myself as I squeezed the trigger. As the missile flew, I manually adjusted the trajectory towards its head. The Zaku, hearing the launch, turned it's head in my direction just in time for the rocket to hit it dead on the camera. The resulting explosive force tipped the giant over, causing it to fall to the ground. Suddenly, the face of the second Zaku filled my viewfinder. As I pulled my head back to see it with my own eyes, the mobile suit thrust its right hand towards me.


	8. Chapter 7: Singapore

**07** **Singapore**

_Hi, this is Jill! I can't come to the phone at the moment, but please leave your important message and I will get back to you as soon as I can! If this is Matt calling just to say I love you, I love you too!_ BEEP.

Remember when we first met? It felt almost like fate had brought us together. It was a rainy April afternoon in that little doorway where we sat because both of us had forgotten our umbrellas. We talked for what seemed like hours in that doorway as the rain just poured down. You told me your name was Jill and I told you mine was Matt. I wasn't sure at that point you fell for me but I certainly fell for you. Once the rain stopped, you left me your number. I gladly called you again a day later and we met again under that same doorway.

_Hi, this is Jill! I can't come to the phone at the moment, but please leave your important message and I will get back to you as soon as I can! If this is Matt calling just to say I love you, I love you too!_ BEEP.

Remember our first official "date"? I was dressed like a clown and you were dressed like the wife of a clown. We complemented each other so well that night. The restaurant staff tried to stop us going in but their manager was a good friend of mine so we sat in the middle of the room in our clown costumes and freaked out the other patrons. A few kids even came up to us and asked us to do balloon tricks. You couldn't stop laughing at me trying to tie a doggy balloon.

_Hi, this is Jill! I can't come to the phone at the moment, but please leave your important message and I will get back to you as soon as I can! If this is Matt calling just to say I love you, I love you too!_ BEEP.

Remember that time we went to the beach with your friends? We drove almost one-hundred miles to that secluded beach on the northern coast and it was worth it. We had the beach to ourselves but you had to tell me then that you didn't know how to swim. I was thinking of going surfing but you made me teach you how to doggy-paddle in a small lagoon off the main beach. When you finally learnt how to float without me, you swam up to me and kissed me.

_Hi, this is Jill! I can't come to the phone at the moment, but please leave your important message and I will get back to you as soon as I can! If this is Matt calling just to say I love you, I love you too!_ BEEP.

Remember when we found that puppy? You loved it to pieces and I was allergic to it. I sneezed constantly but you would play with it constantly. You had to push that _thing_ into my face and I would go into an uncontrollable sneezing fit while you just laughed. Although I hated that mutt, I saw how you loved all living beings, no matter where they were from or what they were. I knew then that I loved you.

_Hi, this is Jill! I can't come to the phone at the moment, but please leave your important message and I will get back to you as soon as I can! If this is Matt calling just to say I love you, I love you too!_ BEEP.

Remember when we found out that you were pregnant? Bloody hell did you scream. To me, then to your parents and finally to your friends. The doctor asked us whether we wanted to know the sex but we, well you, decided to keep it a mystery. I liked a good mystery every now and again but I can't help but think that those mini-cricket bats and shin-pads would go to waste on our daughter. Almost immediately, I was transferred to the Singapore base as their chief physician. I still remember telling you to move in with my parents in Sydney.

I still remember Operation British.

_Hi, this is Jill! I can't come to the phone at the moment, but please leave your important message and I will get back to you as soon as I can! If this is Matt calling just to say I love you, I love you too!_ BEEP.

I remember how you used to say that people should look to the future rather than dwell on the past. This message is all I have of you.

_Hi, this is Jill! I can't come to the phone at the moment, but please leave your important message and I will get back to you as soon as I can! If this is Matt calling just to say I love you, I love you too!_ BEEP.


	9. Chapter 8: Central London

**Chapter 9: Holborn, Central London**

"Apples, oranges, bananas! Two pounds for four!"

This was my usual Monday to Friday ritual. My family has sold fruit outside Holborn underground station for three generations. My great grandfather set the stall up in the late 1980's and I'm carrying on the tradition of selling top quality fruit to the commuters. Our prices had remained the same until the start of the UC calendar, during which we double our prices: £2.

"Thank you, sir." I said, wrapping up a bag of four clementines for an Asian fellow walking past my stall. He handed me a two pound coin but his eyes lingered on a small box of blueberries too for a second. I glanced up and winked at him, "Take a box, free of charge." Returning my wink with a smile, he picked up the box of blueberries and hurried towards his office down the road. Despite the war and supplies are short, it can't hurt to be good to the customers around here and garner some repeat business, especially with the other stall set up by Stan, a good friend but competitor nonetheless.

Our suppliers have been a bit "stingy" with their shipments recently. Having some of their crops being blown-up during the drop and invasion didn't really help but it didn't mean that they have to prioritise supermarkets over us.

"Apples, oranges, bananas! Two pounds for four!" I shouted again, putting four bananas into another paper bag for a blonde woman.

A trail of cars drove from beyond the intersection towards my stall. Small Zeonic flags jutted from the hood of the cars, indicating a high-level delegation. In the middle of the motorcade was a dark sedan. It carried the Zeon ambassador, and British Isle's high commander, Lucas Nord. The entire motorcade travelled at 15 miles per hour, backing up traffic for a mile behind it.

Reaching down below the tarp of the stall, I fished quickly in my box of knickknacks. The ambassador's car stopped by my stall. It was the same routine for the past two months. Lucas Nord loved my oranges and I loved nothing more than presenting him with the juiciest. The Zeon soldiers on motorcycles besides the car eyed me as the window slowly rolled down.

"The usual please, Mr Bow." Lucas said, in his usual cheerful tone.

"Just a minute, Mr Nord, I've kept the best for you as usual. I'm sure you'll be surprised by today's pick!" I said, still rummaging. Finally, my fingers found the device and I detonated the bomb under my stall.

Being blown up didn't really hurt, just a quick flash of heat and a brilliant tan. I go with the knowledge that I have avenged my family and all those killed during the invasion. People say that suicide bombers have nothing to lose. Those people are right.


	10. Chapter 9: Somalia

**Chapter 10: Somalia**

The company psych said that I have PTSD. Probably had something to do with my first tour out here in Africa.

One of the expeditionary patrols took me out to the boarders of Somalia. We were looking for a Zeke supply pod that landed off target. Gas was in short supply so we conducted our patrols on foot. The ground was rock solid with the lack of rain but at least it was flat. Most of my squad got blisters from the patrol. I carried the squad's communications equipment and I had always said that it painted me as a target, but everyone just laughed.

The Zekes had advanced through to Kenya and our frontline troops weren't holding out that well against the mobile suits. We were one of the many squads stationed near the supply lines to the Gulf of Aden so we had little to do until the Zekes arrive. The patrols were a welcome relief from the monotonous tasks of guarding vehicles and sentry duty. My last patrol was at dusk on a Friday.

Our lieutenant took us to an ancient road intersection called Bilis Qooqaani. He had studied Somali history while at college and told us that the intersection had been a thriving market two in the late 21st Century, after the Somali government quelled insurgent activity in the country. The town had been levelled during World War Three and the town had not been rebuilt since. I remember looking around and saw a single office block-like building. Another private asked the lieutenant what the building was for. The response was a shrug.

A sudden _zing _and red mist caused everyone to duck. I looked around and saw one of my squad mates had half his head missing. There was a brief moment of shock until we began firing randomly in all directions with the lieutenant screaming at us to cease fire. We complied about ten seconds later after everyone found some kind of cover.

Someone had shouted that there was a sniper in the building but no one could confirm it until another bullet zinged towards us and took out the lieutenant. Our squad sergeant took command and told everyone to keep down. He barked at me to radio in an artillery strike on the building. I scrambled through my pockets and found my badly folded map of the area. The Zeke's had taken out our GPS satellites when they first invaded and we were force to fall-back on the tried and trusted methods. Another shot flew into a nearby wall as I called in the strike and the building was rubble a minute later. We cheered loudly as the building collapsed in on itself.

The sergeant told me and three others to check out the building while the rest of the squad took care of our dead.

We cautiously approached what we had named "ground-zero", making sure the route was clear before we moved out in the open. One of us brought up the question about why there was a lone sniper out in the middle of nowhere but it was ignored.

Once we arrived, I vomited my entire dinner onto the ground. Amongst the debris were bodies of men, women and children. Some were still alive. I screamed into my radio-receiver to the Mogadishu base to send help. The stench of the dead and groans of the dying was all around us. There was no escaping it until the retrieval helicopters arrived.

It wasn't until several days later that we found out from the survivors that the building was used as a makeshift hospital for refugees from Kenya by a group of doctors from Médecins Sans Frontières. The doctors had informed the Federation base in Mogadishu that they were operating there but someone had misplaced a few numbers when the information was trickled down to the squads. When I asked about the sniper, we were told that bandits had tried to raid the hospital several days earlier and one of the refugees took up protecting the hospital with it's only weapon: a Dragunov.

No one was blamed for the deaths of the fifty-or-so civilians. The base commander even took us aside and said that these things happen in war. My squad mates accepted his words but I never forgot the faces of the people digging themselves out of the rubble; each of them looking at me and silently asking "why?".

And here I am, sitting in my bunk and with a pistol in my hand. The psych and doctors gave me some drugs to help me sleep but the dreams make me want to stay awake. Yet when I'm awake, I can't get their faces out of my head. I sobbed like a baby when I put the gun to my head and pulled the trigger.


	11. Chapter 10: Central Brazil

**10 Central Brazil**

The panther was staring me down. It circled me, enticed by the smell of fear and adrenaline. My trusted spear in my left hand, I faced down the beast as had my brothers and father. The forest was awash in the usual noise but the sounds of the other creatures were drowned out by my beating heart. Its teeth gleamed in the moonlight; its eyes glaring. A deep growl emerged from its throat and made its intentions known.

My name is Ta'ang, son of Si'ang. My tribe lived within this deep forest for generations and have lived in harmony with the land. The village of the Forever Tree was where I grew up. All the men in the village were warriors and the women looked after the village. There were many villages like ours before but we lost touch with them, one by one. Things were good for a while. No more political marriages, no more battles with rivalling tribes and no more shortage of food. The village of the Forever Tree flourished. Then it began.

My brother was the first. His hunting party lost sight of him one day two moons ago. Ti'ang was one of our most able yet fate was the first to take him from us. The searches revealed nothing but his spear. On the day we buried Ti'ang in an empty grave we lost Sa'ang, my second brother, and three more.

The elders prayed to the Forever Tree, trying to find answers of things to come. Nothing came of it. They say the Forever Tree was displeased at our blasphemies. I have not believed in the elders teachings since I was a small boy. This has landed me in trouble time and time again where I have felt the pain of many lashings. Despite my failure to believe in the legend, I do not know what had taken my fellow villagers.

I know that believing the panther was the demon that took the villagers seems contradictory to not believing in the Forever Tree but this enemy was something I could see and something I could hate. This was the beast that had claimed my father's arm as a trophy and took one of my the villager's eyes. The beast tracked us through the forest during each of our hunts. Sometimes it would strike, sometimes it would just stalk. We would often see its dark shimmering form in the trees and in the corners of our eyes but it would never stand before us.

I remembered when the pale man visited our village before the disappearing. He walked amongst us, eat with us and learned from us. He and his pale companions took our traditions and left as suddenly as he came. The night of their leave, I heard them argue in their hut. Their tongue was foreign to me but anger filled their voices. I followed them to the boarders of the village when they were leaving and they said one thing to me, not in their foreign tongue but in the Tree language: "Hide".

Now I face the dark panther alone. The hunter has become the hunted. It's fangs and claws sharper than our women's tongues. Suddenly, its eyes wobbled and then fell onto its side. I looked quizzically at the beast. An anti-climatic ending to a fight that had not begun. I heard a small pop and I fell into darkness.

"Got another one, Steve." Clive said. He slung the tranquiliser gun over his shoulder. It was stuffy in his EFF uniform but unless he wanted to incur Steve's wrath, he kept it on and buttoned up.

"Alright, let's get him to the sanctuary." Steve walked over to the muscled body of the tribesman. The EFF were building new launch-pads in the Amazon for its new Magellan-cruisers but it required clearing protected wildlife preserves. Steve's unit had been charged with hunting down the tribesmen who lived in the forest and taken them away to a new sanctuary in Australia. The task had not been easy but progress had been made nonetheless.

"Alright, get him into the truck."


	12. Chapter 11: The Atlantic Ocean

**Chapter 11: The Atlantic Ocean**

Captain's Log Entry: May 31 0079, 03:40

The Sunderland is currently running on the backup electric generators to avoid detection from the Zeon destroyer that had been shadowing us at 02:50. The crew had been expecting this since we entered European waters. The crew aware of our mission and have their reservations about the mission plan but I think they know that I had argued against this mission as well. Despite this, the crew and I will complete this mission.

Captain's Log Entry: May 31 0079, 11:30

The boat is currently hiding underneath a thermal layer. The destroyer is still shadowing us, pinging every now and again. I don't believe that they know what we are up to but if they continue to follow us this close we will be forced into a confrontation, something that I would like to avoid. I will be going off duty at 14:00 for a few hours of sleep. It's been a while since I last slept and the first officer is insistent on me resting.

Captain's Log Entry: May 31 0079, 19:45

Just awoke from five hours of sleep. The first officer had informed me that the destroyer shadowing us had veered off east. We are on course for the rendezvous and on time. The water seems very calm given the intelligence we received before we left port.

Captain's Log Entry: June 01 0079, 03:50

Approaching the rendezvous point with caution. Surface conditions are poor and cloud cover would hamper any aerial surveillance. Sonar reports no contacts and we have not picked up any contacts for three hours. High command did not specify who we would be picking up.

Captain's Log Entry: May 01 0079, 11:20

We reached the rendezvous point at 07:40 and had been holding position. Nothing of interest to report. The crew is becoming restless and I, to some extent, am becoming restless too. The last EMS scan did not reveal anything.

Captain's Log Entry: May 01 0079, 19:30

We are currently hiding from another destroyer. I assume the same one that had shadowed us. That ship has a good captain if she had followed us all the way from our last contact position. Our orders had told us to hold position but my crew comes first.

Captain's Log Entry: May 02 0079, 03:35

The destroyer had lost us again at 00:45. I ordered the boat back around and we are twenty minutes out from the rendezvous point. My first officer has expressed his doubts about the contact coming to the rendezvous. I am inclined to agree with him. I will keep the Sunderland at the rendezvous for another 48 hours before heading back to base. I will take responsibility for not completing the mission but I will not endanger my crew for longer than necessary.

Captain's Log Entry: May 02 0079, 11:40

An unknown airplane flew overhead five minutes ago and dropped something into the ocean at the rendezvous point. Sonar had the destroyer on a course away from the rendezvous point and was at least forty miles south east at last contact. Will surface the Sunderland as the mission specified and retrieve the cargo.

Captain's Log Entry: May 02 0079, 19:25

Well to say I'm surprised would be an understatement. The cargo was a Zeon officer from their Expeditionary Army. He was dropped into the ocean with nothing but a paddle and a inflatable crash from an old Hercules transport to be retrieved. The crazy son-of-a-bitch claims to be an undercover officer from the FNI (Federation Naval Intelligence) and needs to transfer to the top-brass some vital information. Although I don't entirely trust his story, I will be raising the ESM mast to transfer this data to Jaburo at 01:00 tomorrow.

Captain's Log Entry: May 03 0079 01:30

I guess this may be my last entry to this log. Our oxygen supply was hit by a torpedo. The destroyer caught our ESM mast in the water and gave chase. We evaded it for ten minutes before it dropped two torpedoes into the water. The bow is completely flooded along with thirty three of the crew. The boat is sitting at 765 on the Mid-Atlantic Range. The man from the intelligence shot himself five minutes ago. I suppose he wanted to go out on his own terms. We have around two hours of oxygen left. I have ordered my crew to spend their last hours as they please. If anyone finds this message please let the Federation Naval Command know that I am proud of my men's actions. Also, let my family know that I spent my time thinking of them.

Captain Jonathan Limmington.


	13. Chapter 12: Upper Atmosphere

**Chapter 12: Upper Thermosphere**

_God damn it._

I fiddled with the thrusters module on my suit and moved myself closer to her spinning body. There was only enough fuel for a few more manoeuvres so I'd better make them count. I heard through my suit the sound of releasing air in back-mounted thrusters and pumped my feet as if pushing off from a swimming pool. As I got closer, I pushed aside a piece of the reconnaissance satellite to adjust my heading.

_Gotcha._

I grabbed by her ankles and stopper her spinning.

"You OK?" I pressed our helmets together to let the vibrations in my voice transfer to hers.

"Mmm…" She murmured in reply. Her eyes were closed but she seemed to be breathing normally. I checked her wrist mounted normal suit status monitor. Her oxygen stats were OK but the suit was a bit on the low-side.

"Hey, Sally, this isn't time to sleep."

"Hmm…"

I decided to let her recover for a bit and tried to get my bearings. We were at the 332nd atmo-sector but the shockwave from the exploding satellite and the ship probably pushed us into the 430th atmo-sector. I looked down and saw South America slowing gliding by. The first time that I was out here I was so overwhelmed by the sheer scale of things that I lost my bearings and almost fell back to Earth. I looked back at the ruined satellite and back at what's left of our shuttle. The situation seemed a bit bleak.

"What happened?" Sally finally woke and touched our helmets together.

"The Zaku hit the _Shenyang _with a missile and got the satellite with its cannon."

"What about the crew?" She screamed through her helmet.

"I didn't see any of them get out. I haven't seen any movement in the shuttle."

They probably died from explosive decompression. Since we're just a salvage operator contracted to clean up space debris from Earth orbit, we didn't have enough of a budget for suits that could cope with a missile hit. We're not the EFF after all. Our company was hired to remove an old satellite from geosynchronous orbit after Zeon had deactivated it, and all the other EFF orbital satellites, removing the EFF's orbital surveillance capabilities. All efforts at activating them had failed so now EFF hired us to remove them from South American airspace. We were in the Earth's shadow and I could see the lights of the cities below.

"Is the rescue beacon activated?" Sally turned away from the shuttle and began checking her suit.

"It been beeping since the Zaku left."

_Damn Zeon. They thought we were trying to reactivate the satellite._

Sally plugged her in-line communications connector to my suit and floated over to the ship. I saw her glance inside and suddenly pull away. I didn't want to leave Sally alone so I didn't check the ship but her reaction told me everything I wanted to know.

"They're gone." Her voice was wavering.

"Yeah." I didn't want to tell her about our situation yet. I only noticed it but there isn't anything we can do if I was right. I turned with my thrusters and grabbed the nearest piece of satellite.

"Hey, get back over here. We need to push what's left here into a lower orbit for burn. We can't do anything for them anymore but we still have a job to do."

"Alright." Sally used her thrusters and pushed back to my position.

"Put the portable thruster module onto the right-upper quadrant. I'll put the other on the lower right-quadrant. Push clear once you're done."

We were both silent as we proceeded with the task. I didn't know what to say to her so I thought being quiet was probably best for now.

"I'm ready on my end."

"I copy. I'm ready here too."

We both pushed away from the large piece of debris and made our relative speed zero to the shuttle. I rechecked the thruster control sequence and activated them. We both watched the debris begun it's decent into the atmosphere.

"Andre?"

"Hmm?"

"We're falling aren't we?"

"You noticed?" I glanced back at my suit temperature gauge. It was rising steadily as we fell through the thermosphere. The explosion had pushed everything into a deteriorating orbit and the friction between us and the atmosphere was slowly heating up our suits.

"You know what you asked me back at base?"

"Yeah…" I had completely forgotten what I just before the mission.

"Yes." She said, grabbing my arm. Even though I couldn't feel her warmth, I could feel the pressure through the mylar. I glanced over and saw tears floating around in her helmet, "Yes. I'll marry you."

"You sure? Don't say it if you don't mean it."

She hesitated for a second. I could feel her squeeze my arm harder, "I-Yes. I mean it."

"Alright."

"How much time do you think we'll have?"

"Twenty minutes, thirty minutes max. After that, the temperature will-" I stopped, remembering my EVA training. _Always think positively._

The light from the Sun shone at us from the east and lit both of us up in the darkness.


	14. Chapter 13: Vancouver

**Chapter 13:** **Vancouver**

The sound of the door slamming woke me from my nap. My nights have been dreamless ever since the invasion, either because of insomnia or because my dreams are exactly the same as my days that I stopped calling them dreams. The sun was probably shining outside but the painted windows blocked out all light. This house used to belong to my parents and was worth a fortune when I inherited it from them but after the invasion the entire neighbourhood went to shit. I took a sip from the glass of water next to my chair.

I sat up from the dusty sofa and heard what was most likely to be Pete and Wen brining in Roger. Two sets of heavy boots clunked on the oak floor followed by the sound of dragging.

_Time to get ready_ I thought to myself.

Pete and Wen appeared in the living room with a burlap sack. Their faces were as expressionless as mine. They threw the sack into the middle of the room and untied the top. Rogers was inside, unconscious. The first thing that I noticed was that he had lost a lot of weight since I last saw him. His face was slightly bruised and had a partially healed black eye. I motioned to Peter and Wen towards the wooden chair and rope and they proceeded to tie Roger to the chair. Both of them left after putting Roger in the middle of the room.

Once they finished, I walked around Roger's unconscious form. I pitied him, especially after what he's went through, but what I am about to do now is still necessary. I picked up my glass of water and threw it on Roger's face. He woke with a start.

"Huh…wha..? George? Is that you?"

I slapped him hard.

"Arg!" He screamed out loud. There was a fear in his voice that I had never heard before.

I threw punch at him that almost sent him flying backwards. He spat out the blood in his mouth.

"Why are you doing this?" He whimpered.

"What did you tell them?" I asked, walking around behind him. I didn't want to see his face.

"I…I don't remember…"

"WHAT DID YOU TELL THEM?" I shouted, punching him hard in the back of the head.

He was crying now. In between the stuttering breaths, he murmured, "Everything."

I gave him a reassuring tap on the shoulder and his crying subsided.

"Do you know how many people died in the past five days?"

He shook his head.

"Twenty-seven, Roger. Another fifty are missing. The Zekes came for them and their family at night. Took them straight from their beds and dragged them to their fate, Roger. Do you know what happened to my wife and daughter?"

He hesitated, realising that this was a rhetorical question. He knew the answer. I reached into my buckle and pulled out a pistol. Roger flinched sideways and almost tipped over at the sight of the gun. I could feel Roger's eyes follow the gun as I walked around in front of him.

"Roger," I began again, "We've been through some good times. You introduced me to Emma, you were my best man and you're Sammy's godfather. Maybe I could blame this entire situation on the Zekes. The problem with that is we have no control over their actions. We only have control over our own actions. You could have, and should have, controlled yours."

"I-I tried, George." Roger said in a low whisper brought on by the pain of my previous blows, "They did things to me…I held out as long as possible but they broke me. I'm so sorry."

"It's too late for apologies, Roger." I examined the gun and chambered a bullet.

"Oh god!"

The wave of pity suddenly washed back over me. This man has been through hell and we were about to punish him for it. Freedom fighters may not be the best way to describe us. Those words describe those who died trying to play hero. We were just trying to regain our homes and lives from the spacenoids but our methods were no more conventional and no less cruel than those that invaded us. We wanted to fight but in order to do that we had to give part of ourselves up. Some gave up their compassion, some gave up their families and some gave up their lives. Maybe it is the sacrifice itself that made us into the men that we are today: uncompromising in our beliefs and the willingness to do anything for victory. In the end, we were just murderers.

I raised the gun and placed it in front of Roger's face, "I want you to know that you were a good friend but I'm afraid that there's nothing I can do."

I pulled the trigger and saw my best friend fall back.


	15. Chapter 14: North Eastern China

**Chapter 15: North Eastern China. **

Sister Angelsmith's glare was unrelenting. All the sisters in the area knew that her temper could flare at any time. She, however, was our protector (outside of our lord) and we knew that she meant well. She glanced up and down my dishevelled head-dress and black coveralls and shook her head disapprovingly. I knew she wanted to raise her voice but with little Emily clinging to my leg like a tiny koala, she held her tongue.

I joined the convent in Haerbin three years ago. Once I was initiated, I was charged with the duty to look after the orphans who, one by one, found themselves outside my orphanage. The war had ensured their arrival. Emily, or at least that's what everyone is calling her since she refused to tell anyone her name, had arrived three days ago. The rooms of our Chinese "four-sided" compound, while small, managed to fit all of us. The lack of any modern amenities bothered me more than the children. They were still at the age where technology has yet to take hold of their lives.

Me, on the other hand, had a much harder time adjusting to the bareness of it all. I emigrated from the United States to China in the late-60's with my parents at the age of 15. I completed high-school and successfully dropped out of Shanghai University. I travelled around the country until I found myself at the Haerbin cloisters. The nunnery was run by a couple of Sisters from America so language wasn't a difficulty when I gave my life to the Lord. I was used to all the marvels that modern technology had brought and the shock of moving to an area so remote and devoid of the same convenient machines has yet to wear off.

"So," Sister Angelsmith finally spoke, "How are things here, Sister Marianne?"

I looked the Sister in the eye and tried to hold back my anxiety, "Things have been fine here, Sister Angelsmith. We could do with a bit more food, but in this day and age, who doesn't?"

The Sister breathed a small laugh at the joke but her demeanour remained the same. She stepped into the four-sided courtyard with both me and Emily in tow. I saw her shoulders arch upwards as she breathed in the fresh paddy-field air and musk from the brick and mud. At first I wondered where the other children had gone but the flash of the white of a small pair of eyes in the window told me that they were all staring at her from the bedroom.

"I see that my presence here is causing a bit of, how should I put it, anxiety in your charges?"

"Yes, Sister," I responded, trying to hide my own unease, "I'm afraid that the children are not used to strangers."

"Surely they are used to seeing a nun? Or rather, a woman who tries to dress like one." She said stingingly.

"Yes, Sister." Was all I could muster.

Sister Angelsmith walked over to the bedroom window and peered into the dark room. A ray of sunshine fell through the low grey clouds, temporarily lighting up the bedroom. It revealed the twenty-two orphans.

The Sister mumbled something unintelligible to herself as she ran her finger across the wooden frame of the window. I knew she couldn't fault us on cleanliness; all the children helped me make sure the place was spotless yesterday.

"Very good." She muttered. The first positive words out of her mouth since she had arrived, "Sister Marianne, I can see that things are very difficult for you. Please do accept my apologies if I seem to be abrasive, but that is who I was and who I am now."

I was taken aback by her sudden change in tone but I kept my composure. She crouched to Emily's height at my leg and ran her hands through the six year-old's hair, smiling.

"I'll see to it that we send over some more food." She said as she stood and stepped outside of the courtyard into the dusty road. Before I could reply, she had got on her bicycle and rode slowly off into the distance.

I stood in shock for a few seconds before I heard the other kids rush out from the compound. They were followed by a man in a torn green Zeon uniform. He wasn't what you would call handsome, but his unshaven face and muscular features would have given me pause for thought several years back. The children gathered around me as he limped closer and saw Sister Angelsmith disappear over a gentle hill.

"Thank you Sister Marianne." His voice was horse but I knew that it would have been a gentle one if given a few days rest.

"What for?"

"For not telling Sister Angelsmtih that I was here. I understand the convent in Haerbin has ties to the Federation."

I noticed that Emily, having been perpetually stuck to me ever since her arrival, had dislodged her hands and migrated to the legs of the Zeon soldier. He had been the one who brought her in and had stayed with us for the past several days because of Emily's refusal to be left alone.

"We are all family under God, corporal. You brought Emily and you were hurt. I couldn't just refuse you."

"That is very kind, Sister. I thank you again for your hospitality." He said.

"Please, corporal, call me Marianne."


	16. Chapter 15: San Diego

**Chapter 15: San Diego**

I ducked behind a small wall as the rounds hit the platoon. My ears were ringing but I had kept my head up long enough to see the men that was still left on the road turned into pink puffs of mist that mixed with the gravel and dust thrown up by the anti-personnel mine. I felt my body up and down for injuries and was somewhat glad that my hands came back only with dirt.

My name is Timothy Young. I'm a reporter who was embedded with the 17th Armoured Platoon, 20th NWA (North Western American) Mechanised Marine Battalion. I have always been considered to be lucky as an embedded reporter. My stories leading up to the war with Zeon and those on the frontline have been shared across the world. John, my head editor in New York, have time and time again said that I had a sixth sense about this war. I caught on to Gihren's initial political manoeuvring; the Fed's responses; and then all-war between the two had astounded him and the other editors. John wanted me to become a political commentator but I had other ideas. I bugged out of New York and straight to San Diego when Zeon space forces dropped on Hawaii and decimated the battalion of troops stationed there. I got lucky again when Zeon dropped on the California Base's San Diego facilities.

As soon as I regained my bearings, I tapped at the helmet mounted DV camera and heard the reassuring buzz of life in its tiny confines. I didn't know what I would do if that little thing died but then I realised that thanks to the hardened casing and military grade chipsets in the DV that if it did die, I would most likely be dead too. I looked around and saw Corporal Manning panting next to me with his rifle held to his chest. I hoped that the high definition camera would capture the perspiration that was flooding down his face.

He turned to me with a nervous smile, "Having fun?"

"Hell yeah," I replied and spat out the grime that was building up in my mouth, "Hopefully not too much fun I'm smeared across a wall."

The corporal's smile turned into a deep grin that showed his brilliant white teeth. It wasn't something you expected of a marine, especially someone who tended to chew tobacco.

"Alrighty, I think the Zaku's moved on. Let's see if we can find the rest of the platoon and get the hell out of this meat grinder of a harbour." He said and began heading west. I didn't need to be told to follow him. The corporal seemed like the type of man who would be calm under any kind of pressure, withstand any kind of torture and be the man who would come out of a suicide charge with only paper cut. It was reassuring that I was following his lead.

Manning motioned to me to check on the pulses of the men lying in the middle of the pock-marked street. Only Private Keller was alive, just barely. He was caught just on the edge of the anti-personnel mine launched from the Zaku. His legs had been mangled into a bloody pulp. I consciously looked the private, who was barely 18, up and down so that my DV could capture his condition for later editing. Despite the mild disgust I felt for myself at that point, I still had a job to do.

Manning and I hauled the man between our shoulders and began a slow jog towards the bases' main entrance. As we moved past the burning buildings and vehicles, I was sure that there were at least a hundred bodies and body parts strewn across our path. Bits of flesh hung from lamp posts, body parts dotted on the ground without owners or had owners who were a few feet away. As we passed a group of men that had been crushed by a Zaku's foot I heard a light moaning from the mass of bloody human mass. We did not slow down.

As we passed what was left of the main gate a sudden gush of hot gust stopped us in our tracks. Both Manning and I nearly fell backwards but the weight of Private Keller managed to keep us upright. When we tried to shield our eyes from the dry wind, Private Keller suddenly awoke from his shock induced coma and began screaming. At first I thought it was due to the pain but I then looked up to see a towering green mobile suit slowly land in front of us. It touched down with a tremendous crash as its weight dug into the concrete road and the exhaust blast stopped.

The machine was what you would call a magnificent feat of engineering. I could see the internal pistons pumping in a crack on the Zaku's leg and wondered whether we were going to meet the same fate as those men we saw earlier on and become no more than a puddle. The pink monoeye of the Zaku looked down at us. It jittered from left to right, probably the pilot getting a close-up of each of us. A small breeze wafted the stench of urine to my nose.

The Zaku lifted its arm and pointed towards the east. The monoeye flashed for a few seconds before the behemoth turned and began moving into the base, stepping over us in the process. I looked at Manning and tried to understand what just happened.

"Those flashes was Morse code. That pilot said that the Fed line is seven kilometres east of here."

"Oh." I muttered in reply.

"Come on, let's go before the pilot changes his mind."

I had completely forgotten my camera was running and it was not until much later that I realised that I am one lucky son-of-a-bitch.


	17. Chapter 16: Brescia, Italy

**Chapter 16: Brescia, Italy**

After cleaning the thirtieth glass of the day I began to appreciate why most bars moved to the dishwasher. There was, of course, no substitute for the mighty cloth but the threat of early arthritis in my wrists was not something that I was looking forward to.

I gazed out of the windows of my bar towards the mountain range just outside of Brescia. The skies were already dark but I could see dots of light on the mountainside and the peak. The peak used to be a ski resort a hundred years ago. Although the snow still remained, man's exodus towards space meant smaller holiday destinations like Brescia was abandoned for more popular places such as the Alps. I remember my grandfather telling me when I first started working at the family bar that Brescia was once a jewel of Italy, attracting people from far and wide. It's been forty-five years and the city is now a town.

"Peter," The lone customer who was sat at my bar called out, "Another, on the rocks."

"Sure. The name's Andre, sir. Not Peter." I said to him while pouring a measure of whisky into his empty glass. The man looked at me and then gazed down at his glass before swallowing the whole shot in one. I poured him another shot and said this was on the house.

"You look like a Peter." The patron mumbled. He ran his hands through his white hair and leaned forwards on the counter. As he did so, the scar running down the side of his face came into the light of the bar, "I do apologise, Andre. You just remind me of someone."

I gave him an understanding smile and went back to drying the stack of glasses. I could feel his eyes following me as I moved behind the counter before downing his third shot within five minutes.

"When is that singer arriving today?"

I glanced up at the clock: seven twenty-eight, "She will be out in a few minutes, sir." The man gave me a small nod. He took one of the smaller ice-cubes from the glass, placed it into his mouth and crunched down.

Two minutes later, the back room door swung open. Miss Rosa Pernia walked out with her piano partner. Rosa wore a bright red dress that captured her hourglass figure exquisitely. The pair stepped up the stage and took their places. I dimmed the lights in the bar so that those on the stage could illuminate Rosa's features. The man at my bar watched Rosa from his seat, his eyes glistening in dimmed light.

"_Tra __le __mie__ braccia__ fragili__  
stringo__ il __vuoto __che __sa __di __te.  
Respiro __le __tue __parole __che  
vivono __in__ una __melodia._

_e dolcemente sognerò._

_i luminosi tramonti riflessi nei  
tuoi occhi languidi e grandi  
le mie perle d'amore._

_in__ uno__ s guardo __tu__  
sai __donare __un__ sorriso __al__ mio__ volto __che  
ora__ ti __cerca __tra __lacrime__  
che__ hanno __formato __l'oceano__  
nel __quale__ sempre __ritornerai __da__ me_"

"I used to love this song." He said over the music, "It's about a sailor and his lover. The sailor is on a long voyage while she is on shore, waiting for his return."

"_La pallida luna m'illumina  
mentre il vento mi parla di te  
La danza del mare ti porterà  
sulle rive della realtà_

_e finalmente ti rivedrò_

_qui tra le ombre dei sogni miei, mentre tu_  
_sussurri piano al mio orecchio_  
_perle d'amore_

_in uno sguardo tu_  
_sai donare un sorriso al mio volto che_  
_ora ti cerca e le lacrime_  
_hanno formato un oceano_  
_nel quale sempre ritornerai da me."_

As the music slowly winds down the man claps. Rosa gave him a small nod of appreciation and walks off the stage for a short interlude while her partner plays the blues on the piano.

The man turns back to me, "I know the song is probably centuries old but the story is happening right now."

"How so?" I responded.

"The song doesn't say it directly, but the sailor is going to war. His lover is looking for his safe return but he never comes home. The only way that she could have him return to her is through her memories." He motioned to me to pour him another one.

"I guess you're right." I said while his glass filled for the forth time.

"Those kids fighting out there have someone at home waiting for them. But then there's someone up high who just uses them for their own purposes. I thought we went past the age of war. Zeon has no place here on Earth." He downed his drink again, "Why can't people be happy with what they have? Why do we always want more?"

The bell on the front door rang. A young couple walked through the door and took a table close to the stage. Seeing the new customers enter the bar, Rosa walked back onto the stage. She whispered something to her partner and the sound of soothing piano replaced the blues.

"I think I have better take my leave." The man said, placing a small stack of notes onto the counter, "Keep the change."

I didn't need to count the money to know that there was more than ten-times the amount that the drinks he had drank. He picked up his cap from the counter and placed it forcefully on his head. Although he was wearing civilian clothing, the unmistakable Zeon Space Force badge was sewn onto the front of the cap. A star on the back indicated he was a general.

As he walked out, Rosa began singing again:

"_Been a fool, been a clown  
lost my way from up and down,  
and I know, yes I know.  
And I see in your eyes  
that you really weren't surprised at me at all,  
Not at all.  
And I know by your smile it's you." _


	18. Chapter 17: Swartzwald, Germany

**Chapter 17: Schwartzwald, Germany**

She looked around. Her ears picked up every sound that was around her. Stepping out into the lush green clearing, Laura found herself back at the small pool. The water was clear and the stream ensured that the flow of water was constant. The waves glistened in the stream of light that came through the thick canopy of foliage.

Laura's cottage sat just over a mile from this pool but she made a point to make the walk at least once a week. Her cottage was connected to the greater German water network but she always felt cleaner after bathing in the pool than in her own bathtub. The location was only known to her so she never had any problems with people walking in on her except, of course, the odd deer or woodland critter that used the stream. Even so, she listened again to the wind and the rustling of leaves for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing but chirping birds.

Satisfied, she placed the small bowl with her soap, shampoo and conditioner on the ground. She removed her clothes and stepped into the pool. The summer sun had warmed the water but it did not compare to a hot bath. Picking up her shampoo, she began to lather her golden locks.

She spun around when the bushes behind her rustled. Frozen in place in fear of being discovered by a wayward hiker, she could only stare at the bush with anticipation. A pair of forest deer stepped out of the tree line and approached the stream apprehensively. She watched the deer walk closer to the upper part of the stream. She sighed slightly and went back to her hair.

"Well what do we have here?" A male voice said. The deer looked up and bolted into the tree line, leaving Laura alone with the voice. With her towel out of immediate reach, she covered herself as best as she could with her hands.

"A bathing beauty, Corporal." Another voice said. Laura remained silent as two men dressed in Federation fatigues walked into view. She could feel their eyes violating her but she felt that worse was yet to come. She tried to climb out of the pool.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," One of the soldiers raised his rifle, "I wouldn't make any sudden moves. I really don't want this _gun_ to go off too early."

Laura heard both soldiers snicker and sat back down into the pool; the shimmering water helping to preserve some of her modesty, "What do you want?"

"Not much. We're good people." Both men snickered again, "We are both gentlemen but this chance encounter may be fate! A beauty like yourself meeting two dashing men, deep in the forest and with no one around for miles! I thought the lieutenant was being a bit of an ass, excuse my French, for sending us into this god-forsaken place for a patrol but I guess things turned out better than expected!"

The corporal walked over to the pool while the private threw her clothes into a tall tree, out of her reach.

"You see," The corporal sat down by the edge of the pool. Laura instinctively moved as far away from him as possible, "Me and my subordinate have not been on leave for...well, since this war started. We both have girlfriends at home but we haven't seen them for such a long time. We were hoping that you would help us scratch an itch, especially since you're already dressed for the occasion."

Laura's eyes widened with fear. She wanted to run but she heard the sound of splashing behind her and a pair of strong arms grabbed her arms and picked her up out of the water. She screamed as the private carried her over to the grass clearing and threw her onto the ground.

"If you try anything funny, I'll fucking kill you." Laura could hear the violence and lust in his voice. Her body seemed to go limp as she resigned herself to her fate.

"That's a good girl. Now I-" There was a soft snapping sound and Laura felt her face being splashed with something warm. The private's body seemed to go stiff before landing on her and into the pool with a large splash. Laura was still paralyzed with fear and didn't try to move. In her peripheral vision, she saw the corporal suddenly raise his rifle but then his body also stiffened and fell in to the ground.

Laura paused for what felt like an eternity before pushing the man that landed on her aside. She touched her face and a smear of red appeared on her fingers.

Lieutenant Andre Hendersen of the 5th Zeon Special Operations Squadron took deep but silent breaths. Not moving a muscle, his leaf covered ghillie-suit made him invisible to the casual observer. He stared through the telescopic lens of his sniper rifle and saw the naked woman climb out from under the body of the Fed soldier, picked up her things and ran into the forest.

"Bloody Feds, some gentlemen indeed" He mumbled to himself. Having been moving through the forest to ambush Federation patrols, he was pleasantly surprised to stumble upon Laura. The Federation soldiers' actions made his blood boil and he had no qualms with killing those men. She had reminded him of his wife on Side 3 and wished he was back home with her.

He raised himself off the ground and moved silently to his next ambush point.


	19. Chapter 18: Hong Kong

**Chapter 18: Hong Kong**

"Do you have those projections for social services for next quarter?" A middle-aged man in a suit with his tie loosened said to one of his female colleagues. Things in government were changing. For better or worse, things were changing. Zeon naval ships had shown up outside of Kowloon Harbour and the independent government of Hong Kong had unilaterally surrendered to them. On the face of it, it was to preserve the peace but everyone knew that it was the directorships' way of saving themselves and their jobs.

"In your mailbox, Kent." The woman replied, giving him a thumbs-up without looking up.

"Oh, thanks."

The woman looked up as Kent was leaving, "Do you know why our _new_ masters are working us to the bone?"

"Hell if I know," Kent said with exasperation in his voice, "Do you have any idea what it feels like to work as the undersecretary to the entire directorship and Zeon?

"No. But I do know that big cheque and penthouse means that you can't really complain, can you?" The woman retorted.

"I suppose I can't." He replied with a wry smile. Kent fished out his Blackberry UC-X from his pocket and fired up the mailbox function. Indeed, the email had arrived but something else troubled him: the meeting with Admiral Mansfield was brought forward and he was now due to meet in five minutes.

In the corridors of the Hong Kong Government Administration Building, people were rushing around like rabbits on LSD. No one showed any signs of fear that one would associated with an invading army but Kent's fellow civil servants showed none while at their post. Maybe it was because workloads have tripled in the last three days due to the request by the Zeon Admiralty, maybe it was because there was none of the prophesied slaughtering of civilians on the streets, or maybe it was just because people realized that Zeon soldiers were just like the Federation Earth forces that were stationed in Hong Kong before they suddenly disappeared and left the island unprotected. There was always the chance that the current administration could have been rounded up and shot, including their support staff. However since those fears have currently been unfounded, the current directorship and civil service have carried on with their every day duties.

"I see that your departments are extremely competent," Mansfield said behind the summary report, "And that includes you."

"Thank you, Admiral." Kent said, shuffling about in his chair. He felt extremely uncomfortable with the heavyset MP standing by the door. There were a few minutes of silence when Mansfield read the report on the Hong Kong civil service that was punctuated by a small commotion outside the window. The room had a wide view of the Administration Building's courtyard but Kent could not see what was going on outside from where he was sitting.

"What is your opinion on the directors of the Hong Kong Administration, Undersecretary?"

Kent remained silent.

"Don't be shy Mr Hong, I promise I won't bite." Mansfield smiled.

"They are-" Kent paused to gather his thoughts, "-competent. Of course, like any director, they may not be as effective as they could or should be. Coming in from various backgrounds, the way that they work with their departments and with each other means that maximum efficiency and effectiveness may not be achieved. Each individual has an agenda and each of these agendas may be at odds with each other."

"So are you saying that too many cooks spoil the broth?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes." Kent said, sitting up slightly, "As the undersecretary to the directorship, I oversee all operations and ensure that the directors' orders are carried out."

"And I assume that you don't have any say in their decision-making?" Mansfield leaned forwards too.

"I can influence, but ultimately, I have no say."

"Hmm," Mansfield crossed his arms and sat back, "From what I hear, nearly all your colleagues see you as the one who keeps the directors from causing too much chaos. Given that you have also worked as undersecretary to various directors for the past six years and also worked in the coal-face for the last fifteen, you probably have a much better idea of what works and what doesn't work for this city than any director. I can see you as the man who knows the tactical situation on the ground while also capable of creating a strong strategy to meet evolving needs. You are certainly a rare breed."

Mansfield paused slightly to let his words sink in. Kent sat there, in a slight daze at the Admiral's praise until several shots rang out in the courtyard. There was an overwhelming urge in Kent to run up to the window and see what happened but he knew better than to lose his composure.

"I do apologise Undersecretary Hong. But that was your previous directors. A surgical strike on my part. I can't abide by useless people."

Kent gulped silently.

"Now I am giving you a choice: You can remain undersecretary to my staff, be mostly ignored and perhaps shot. Or you can take on the role of sole director for the Hong Kong Administration and finally make a difference. You don't have to answer now but I do expect an answer in the next half-hour."

Mansfield stood up and showed Kent to the door.

Staggering outside, Kent collapsed into the nearest empty chair. Having worked in civil service and social services in Hong Kong for two decades, he's now in a position to make a positive difference to his beloved city. However, how high is the cost of treachery and becoming a puppet-dictator? What would happen to him and his family should Zeon leave and the Federation takes back Hong Kong? He was sure that if he refused, Mansfield's pistol had a bullet with his name etched on it. Putting his face into his hands, Kent began to weep.


End file.
